Long Timelife Poems
Long Timelife Poems. Below are the most popular long Timelife by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Timelife poems by poem length and keyword.
When you find your early your already much to late all this time now you over compensate
A rush towards the front so we can crawl to the back always flinching from the timely attack
anticapation explodes towards the surface flooding out release its only purpose
Timely ruin erodes the youthful heart corroding the edges lets it fall apart
age and wisdom go hand in hand the curse of life has only one demand
youth and vigor go hand in hand but at that point we dont even understand
in the end we return to the land all these things we were crumbles away into black sand
A hard life takes a serious toll no one to help you madness takes control
lonely hearts lightens the soul to run the great race headlong towards the hole
some live life as a perfect dream while others mostly cry and sometimes scream
good deeds leave nothing to redeem we all lie in dirt or so it would seem
time and space go hand in hand we all must suffer there every command
pain and strife go hand in hand alone we fall and alone we must stand
in the end we pass to the land until we fade and crack turning into black sand
writing this down its quite hard to think today could be it id be gone in a blink
pondering the end leads to the brink no matter how high ones soar everything must sink
it seems to be a very grim notion no matter how hard you swim your consumed by the ocean
live like some mad commotion but time moves straight it knows no other motion
life and death go hand in hand no matter who you are you see others life’s are so grand
fools and liars walk hand in hand each of us all carry these life’s long brand
until the day we return to the land once particles of icy cold lifeless black sand
all of us are dieing only some know when cant control the future but we are were we’ve been
the endless void a thought Iam not akin ill go when I go and not until then
perception is something you have to be in to see our lives stretch and then grow thin
So many hits we take in the chin but the harder I’m hit the wider I grin
because one thing is certain on your journey you’ll be hit over and over again
shame and guilt go hand in hand for all our troubles the end cannot be planned
love and loss go hand in hand we hold so tight by the thinnest strand
until we sleep in the bosom of the land when all of this returns to black sand
You took me home, I drink to much because of you my livers turn to dust
You got me high my lungs have quit for the last time.
And because of you my obsession grows more and more with each passing day.
I do it more to feel the high but it just won’t come back to me.
I tried to walk but it’s so hard I just end up on my back staring into the sky.
You came to me to help me back onto to my feet.
And helped walk me back to the car even with my resistance you took me home.
I’m sick of the things you have said and done while leaving me high and dry.
I’m so messed up from what you've said and I’m on the brink of dieing out, of
this place you call my home.
I’ve tried to make since of all the things you have said to me, But it is impossible
to stay on track. Some people shouldn’t be alive. That’s how I feel.
Like I’m not needed in this life, even though it might hold something I should
uncover,
I’ve never searched these things in mind that should be found, but yet apparently
unattainable to keep track, it’s almost impossible to grab a hold of the thing that
are most vital to your life.
When you are in a life where all you do is getting smashed and seared. And you
try and try to help me up, but you took one move… You took the one wrong move...
You took me home. Because of you my life now sucks!
And it’s now whirling out of my control
I feel I’m fading from this place that you have brought me to
So take my away from here I need not to see your face in front of mine
So get away... away from me!
Why is it when you call my name, I’m put in a state of misery
I’m am so perplexed, can’t see straight
I’ve tried to go and find my-self it's just so frustrating
I can’t take the fact that you entered my life at an age that I do not know
And I try to ask my-self what can I do to help me out of this awful state
Of misery.
Than you made an effort to help me up, but then I see a whole new being and it’s
not you but somewhat else… I see… I see My-self!?!
I think I helped my soul from this death I think that I have come to my sixth
senses and have turned my life around.
But you still make that one last go to start this all another time
You took me home with this agony
And I ask you one last time why did you make my life this living hell!?!
Your name is misery
here to haunt me in my dreams
In my waking hours and in my sleep
Nightmares and worst fears
of course you can make them come true
For
Your Name Is Misery
You are the demon
That called himself a dad
You are my illness, my shame, guilt and pain
I cannot shake you
I try to run but you always catch me
I try to hide and you find me
Your Name Is Misery
You are the cause of my pain
I used to blame myself
But lately I have found I am not the one to blame
I was a child
Innocent and helpless
when you took my dignity, my life my sanity
Your Name Is Misery
You have presented yourself in many forms
The school counselor who tried to violate me
The Father figure who molested me
The strangers who forced themselves on me
A gang paid to rape me
A Fiance who beat me
And killed the child inside me
The voices that torment me
Your Name Is Misery
You have so many faces
It would take my whole life to paint a picture of you
And quite frankly
I don't want to waste my time on you
I just want to forget you
Your Name Is Misery
I wish I could get away from you
Break away from your grasp
Take away the control you have over me
I hate being under your spell
I hate the pain you constantly cause me
I hate crying because of you
I hate the darkness you bring with you
Most of all
I hate you
Your Name is Misery
That is no lie
There is no mistake
You bring havoc, drama, and chaos
All the things I despise
I don't want you near me
I don't even want to look you in the eye
Your Name is Misery
I am afraid of you
I can't stand you
most of all
I am mad at you
for you have made my life a living hell
But no more
I am cutting you out
I have never wanted you around
It is high time
I got rid of you
It's time to stand my ground
I am going to take you down
I don't need you
I never want to see you
Get out of my life
For I am not going to let you bring me down
You are not welcome here
Your Name Is Misery
By: Jean Shular
Form:
Land of Graves
A land of graves makes for quiet neighbors.
He who blessed or cursed extant thereupon remains
Shall suffer little disturbance at the will of his resting countrymen.
The deep silence of an irrevocable sleep pervades his surrounds.
His own sleep mimics that of his departed brethren
But that kin to living rest is a far colder, everlasting condition.
Lest it be by the appearance of some revenant,
His nights will be those of uninterrupted stillness.
The surface of this vast earthen sarcophagus is adorned with faltering monuments-
The souls of their corresponding constituency have long-since dispersed in nihilum-
Leaving playing children and Springtime Sunday-afternoon-passersby
To speculate on their origins and exits, lives and times.
But make no mistake this is not a wholly moribund environment.
There is life in this soil yet. There is an irrepressible profusion reclaiming
This tomb from its own looming finality. The tomb is rendered womb by its power.
The tomb-womb is green. It is a garden, a park, a yard and an arboretum.
It is a charnel conservatory of the deceased, yes, but this sepulchered meadow
Exists as much if not more for those with air in their lungs and blood
In their veins as it does for those buried beneath its grassy lawns.
Though in little more than a generation even the freshest entries into its
Assembly will receive only sparing or incidental visitation.
The ancestry hobbyist and the armchair genealogist will pay their homage.
The digger of graves and the mower of lawns will be more frequent still.
Is maintenance in the face of inevitability an exercise in courage or folly?
Perhaps it is just necessary for life to go on.
Awkward is this line that is crossed above
Straight ahead are falling stars of love,
And not to lose all that is built in here
Everything is turning blue, very hard to bear.
The wretched tree is all alone and ugly
An’ I’m standing here and watching,
Its heart is turning to liquid badly,
I ran for it with my soul weeping.
Awkward is this feeling that I can’t ignore,
Everything has stopped into this world,
And my time is up and the fight is lost,
I can’t save that poor tree’s life, is frost.
A golden globe is floating over us,
I’d like to touch it and hold it for a while,
Just to remember how my life was.
I’ve trusted that daemon and he betrayed me, how?
All those days with lies and happiness,
We were connected like iron on fire.
I had more than one little desire
And now I know that he is heartless.
But then he was not diabolic, no.
He was like an angel, with pure eyes,
There were more things that I could’ve shown
And I left my heart in his hands.
And now I must sell my soul forever
In change of that tree’s life and light,
And I’d do that proudly, just to save that,
And never fall in love again and ever.
All these choices I have made,
All these promises I’ve said,
I regret no more, I forgot it all,
I intent to start a new endless life for all!
Next to this daemon I fear,
I wipe, I am faithless and unsure,
Unsure of this feeling never seen before,
I think that my heart you should hear.
And I did what I had to do,
I’ve crossed the world with him in two,
We’ve spread the love and fear for them,
Now nothing’s left for both of them.
An old wretched tree lives,
And a young girl dies.
But the souls shall meet again,
And they’ll be alive instead.
Every beginning must have an end
And to every ending a beginning again
As we blithely go through life, never knowing
Racing against a clock that is never slowing
Wake to another day, everything out of focus
Spend all your money till you die
Sick of being sick, tired of being tired
Used all my strength trying to be strong
All of this just to keep going on?
I can see a storm bubbling up from the sea
Coming closer with every passing day
Stranded, hopelessly a drift in a land of waste, stupidity, ignorance
For the masses it is easier to plead the fifth
I don’t want to believe that life is only filled with misery
But I can’t turn my head away from the everyday tragedies
I would sooner die knowing the brutal truth of reality than, plead the fifth because an ignorant life provides more bliss
The cuts we inflict on the world fester and ooze like open sores, scars cover the plateaus
The smell of morals rotting under the weight of apathy
The deafening thunder of hypocrisy… I mean democracy
It’s killing me, poisoning the best of me
On the inside the darkest reaches of my soul are riddled with self doubt
I call out for help only to have my cries fall on deaf ears and mute mouths
My finger on the trigger
No solution…determination turned into humiliation, incarceration, no substation, only drug infusion,
Leading to one certain conclusion; once and for all end this vicious circle of what I once called life
I’ll finish what I never was given the chance to start because everything just kept falling apart
Pull the trigger and free my soul…
…When the-bell tolls
Form:
When did it turn around? I wonder now
when the exact moment was I stopped
looking ahead? Some moment in time
I looked back. Back, back and back
and yet it is not far since that young girl
thought swinging on a star would be her
destiny.
That first ten years of life stretched on and on.
The second decade faster but not so fast
as the next and faster still the next.
Faster and faster now the years go by.
What happened only yesterday was
truly months ago and last months happening
at least a year.
The caveman had a life span of a
mere twenty years, but he did not mark
it off by minutes, hours and days.
Without a clock perhaps he too
could stretch it out like children do
that first decade.
We keep each minute marching on
by keeping time. No laggard minutes here.
There, that one’s gone and that one
and now they’re speeding up and more
like seconds than the honest minutes they
should really be.
I remember the little girl I was, counting the
months and weeks to her birthday
or to Christmas and wishing intervening
days away, not realizing she was spending
time she’d long to have back some day.
I know I cannot turn back time but I
can turn off time’s measuring devices and
slow it down that way.
If I should turn off those offending clocks
and face the calendars to the walls. I would
I suppose, miss some important doctor
appointment or a family event.
My daughter would scold and say.
"I’ve told you Mom. You have to write it down
Your memory is not what it used to be".
If time wasn’t linear
and life was an orbit,
pain couldn’t make me old
and age wouldn’t sound morbid.
I’d know every ending
would only bring pause;
that birth was just as relevant
as any loss.
I’d know eyes are subjective,
and the mind is a trap
disfiguring reality
like a folded map.
Doubt will provide distance
like a neighbor’s fence
as pictures and frames
attempt to capture innocence.
And love is the answer
that will set you free,
unless you’re a hostage
in its captivity:
begging for release
or at least a transfer
like the sweetest memory
too painful to remember.
But life lasts longer
than the gifts we have to give
and it’s not about what’s lost,
but what you can’t live with
that ultimately will dictate
the silence and the sorrow;
that leaves you grieving yesterday
and dismissing tomorrow.
You followed the rules;
you kept your hands to yourself.
But you’re the one person
you never knew how to help.
You say people are leaves:
they change color and fall,
and just before their death,
they’re the center of it all -
the years of emotion
that finally surface,
and, in a brief moment,
give those years purpose.
And we mourn a death
or a life is celebrated.
And we rot in the ground
or we’re reincarnated.
The weak and compassionate
struggle to move on
as a cycle returns to its origin
and time moves along.
Two generations later,
bones lay in a coffin
beneath an engraved stone
that’s nearly forgotten.
life was fun here for awhile, i held your hand and walked with you
dreaming of the night's we kinda went though . the laughter ,the joy that we once shared
your shareing it now with someone alse.
i hope sometime in all that you do you start really missing me like i'm really missing you i
think about you everynight and wishing it was me that was holding you tight.
wishing it was me you were talking to, shareing dayand nights to .
i wanted us to work out that is true but you let lie's come in our life you judged me without
a question or a goodbye.
i wonder if you will be happy knowing the way you done me,when i was good to you i hope
you get treated this same way too .
i hope you care and fall in love and the ***** you get walks away from you.
yes there's anger in my heart cause you promised ,and lied and tore my life apart i lost
some friends because i trusted in you . i took up for you but where were you at?
messeing around behind my back.
i was the laugh of this little town ,the talk of me they woulden't let down you walked away to
start a new with a new game for some one new.
too get your sex or what ever you want i hope everything blows up in your face and you
really feel your life out of place.
cause that's how you left me here .
Form:
The Great Clock
Like the sunrise in the morn,
A babe, a life is born.
For a child, the Lord’s own pride
The door of life has opened wide
Beyond the haze, without a sound
The mighty Clock of Life is wound
Ticking on, into the sun
Until one’s time on earth is done.
The child will have to learn to live
When to take and when to give
He learns to fear, to hate, resent,
But love will help him be content.
Of work and play, a footing’s laid,
Of pains and joys a man is made.
A man who soon will stand alone,
To show the world how he has grown.
But soon the Great Clock quickens pace,
And he looks upon a weary face,
Shining once, but shadowed now,
With sagging cheeks and wrinkled brow.
And looking ‘round him he will see
All has changed, not only he.
Mother, brother, sister, wife,
Beaten by the storms of life.
Beneath the hilltop sod is laid
Other loved ones, passed away.
Of tender feelings once held dear
All will someday disappear.
For Time, like the healing sea
Wishes all painful memories free.
For it is better to think of things to come.
Rather than of things which have come and gone.
For the past is dead, all life’s ahead,
And the great Clock, ticks on!
Thomas J. Rauens
(Written in 1968)